


Burned Rubber

by Verfallen



Category: The Stand - Stephen King
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verfallen/pseuds/Verfallen
Summary: The Kid knew about R.F. back when the plague that would destroy humanity was just a sick little thought in some military scientist's brain. It was a common thread among people of his ilk: if you spend too much time reveling about in the darkness you were going to have to meet The Dark Man.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Burned Rubber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skazka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/gifts).



The Kid knew about R.F. back when the plague that would destroy humanity was just a sick little thought in some military scientist's brain. It was a common thread among people of his ilk: if you spend too much time reveling about in the darkness you were going to have to meet The Dark Man. No one spoke of him, of course, but when he met a fellow traveler whose eyes seemed cold and full of shadows as if they were holding on to Flagg's reflection long after he left, they both came to a silent understanding. Either they'd mind their own damn business and leave each other alone, or they'd help each other out when they could. The Kid had picked up many a hitchhiker and offered them a Coors and a joint just because he could see Flagg's mark all over them like a warped fingerprint on the soul.

Dark helped dark. He didn't always like them. He certainly didn't like Flagg. But they all wanted to put more pain in the world.

When Flagg manifested in the passenger seat of The Kid's slick Ford coupe, he was stuffing his face with stale popcorn (last night's batch, he reckoned, the pricks at the counter were too stingy to even butter it unless you slid 'em an extra couple pennies) at a late-night drive-in showing of _Rebel Without A Cause_. Christ, couldn't he just leave him alone with James Dean? He didn't know if Flagg was this annoying with the rest of his chosen ones but The Kid always reckoned he was getting a little special attention.

"Get out, Randall," The Kid sneered.

Flagg's filthy old cowboy boots covered in dirt and blood and bone fragments and who knows what else were making a mess of his custom floormats. There weren't very many good reasons to piss off a man like Randall Flagg but when it came to his car he'd spit in The Dark Man's face if it meant protecting his leather seats from a single scuff. Flagg only showed up in his car when he was dirty enough to make a mess of it and The Kid was one bad day away from popping him square in the jaw.

He'd die if he did. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he knew. If he laid a hand on Flagg he'd die. All of his insults only seemed to amuse him but if he crossed that line it'd be curtains for him and he always thought it'd be a worse death than any other. The Kid was a killer but Randall Flagg was a force of nature - he could do more than just kill you; he'd send you to a place worse than Hell. Todash. The Kid had never heard that word before, and when Flagg was gone he forgot it again, but that was where he was going if The Dark Man killed him. Todash.

"This is the worst dang porno I've ever done seen, _oh lawd_!" Flagg said, his laughter echoing throughout the car and making the radio squeal and pop like he'd knocked it out of tune.

No doubt Flagg had his grotesque cock in hand, poking out of his unzipped jeans. It always got a little colder when he pulled it out. The Kid stared straight ahead, determined not to indulge him. "Put your prick away, this here's no porno. It's goddamn James Dean."

"Aw, geez, is that why he's keepin' his pants on? Fuck me, I was hoping for a peek," Flagg said, zipping up his pants, "Give me something to drink. I'm _parched_."

He handed Flagg a can of Coors (he didn't want to waste a precious Coors on a thing that might not be able to taste it for all he knew, but if he handed Flagg a Pepsi he'd have the can thrown right back at his head) and watched him open it not by pulling the tab, but by jabbing his thumb right down through the lid. A good wat to cut your hand, but he'd never seen Flagg bleed.

"Mighty kind of you, friend," Flagg said, holding the can just far enough away from his lips that most of the beer spilled out onto his chin and ran down his neck, soaking his shirt.

"Just piss on the seat, why don't you," The Kid said, scowling.

"I'll piss on your grave," Flagg said, "How 'bout that?"

"Do you have something for me or do just like my company this much?"

"Just thought I'd catch up with an old pal before the big shit-show," Flagg said.

"What's the big shit-show?"

"Can't say. It'd spoil the surprise."

"Who's dying this time?"

Flagg giggled, soft and high-pitched. The Kid hated that noise more than his hyena cackle. A man like like Flagg, all tall and dark and handsome-in-a-fucked-way, shouldn't have a giggle like a schoolgirl, but he did. He did it on purpose.

"That many, huh?" The Kid said.

He wasn't that great at reading people, but when it came to Flagg he always knew what he meant to say even when he didn't say it out loud. The Dark Man's intent crawled into his brain like a whisper and he couldn't ignore it even if he wanted to. A lot of people were about to die, then. Alright. That was fine.

"Don't worry, you'll be alright. You of all people won the fucking crapshoot lottery, don't ask me how."

"Nice of you to reassure me. Now get your boots off my fucking dash."

Flagg laughed again, "You're a hoot. Oh, I'll miss you."

"Thought I won the crapshoot lottery."

"Everybody dies someday, kiddo."

The Kid threw his bag of stale popcorn out the window. Now that Flagg was here every bite he had tasted like he smelled, of blood and rot and ashes. They were about halfway through _Rebel_ but he'd already missed his favorite part and regardless of how much or how little he believed the man's ominous words there was no way in hell he was going to enjoy the rest of the movie like this. He crossed his arms over the steering wheel and leaned in, not bothering to ask Flagg when he planned on leaving. He'd leave him alone when he was good and ready, and asking for it would only prolong his stay.

"Don't worry, pal, I'll leave you be soon. Thing is, I'm kind of invested in whatever this fucker's up to on screen now, even if he's not gonna pull his dick out. You can drop me at the bus stop after the movie's done."

"Where're you going now?" The Kid said, not particularly interested but any conversation was better than sitting quietly with Flagg.

"Ah, who knows. Maybe I'll give Vegas a look-see."


End file.
